Photo Session
I’m supposed to be writing a column on kindness right now. There are so many stories of kindness floating around in my brain, but I can’t seem to catch hold of any of them long enough to actually write about them. I just keep thinking about tomorrow (my pre-op appointment) and next Tuesday (my mastectomy).
Reading Up
I’ve been putting off reading anything that has to do with breast cancer– and what to expect post-surgery. I don’t want to know about anesthesia and tubes and scars. Everyone’s story is different, so why bother hearing a horror story about a woman who woke up mid-surgery? I’ve been rolling with the what-you-don’t-know-can’t-hurt-you theory. But
McDonald’s Meltdown
I seldom swear. I used to. A lot. Then I started to feel kind of dirty whenever obscenities would come out of my mouth, so I stopped. Maybe that was God’s way of saying to me, “Can’t you find a better word?” Or maybe I’m just getting older. I don’t know… Anyway, this weekend, standing
Give Yourself and Others Some Grace
I don’t even care that I have breast cancer right now. I really don’t. Do you know what I’m distraught about? I’m grieved that the parents of two Park Christian students had to bury their sons this week. I’m grieved because it feels like the entire nation is divided over recent decisions by the Supreme
How to Forget About Cancer
Never window shop for something you have no intention of buying. In an effort to stop researching breast cancer on the internet (which makes me sad), I started researching cars (which produces no emotional reaction). Wouldn’t you just know it? I fell in love with a 2004 Audi convertible in Cincinnati. It was too far
Crash Course in Kindness
I made it through my first public speaking event post-cancer diagnosis! I’m sure it would have been much better had I had a professional speech writer, but since none of you offered your expertise in that area, I muddled through on my own. I talked about being a kid and visiting my mom’s husband in
An Act of Kindness Could Last for Generations
We’ve all been there, in line at the grocery store, when either we came up short or the person in front of us did. Maybe that’s why last week’s column about the woman who paid for the elderly man’s groceries resonated with so many of you. In the past week, I’ve been delighted to hear
